


Tarot spreads for beginners

by Acnara



Series: Tentative [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ficlet Collection, Gen, Missing Scene, Rated For Violence, Slice of Life, companion piece to the fic Tentative
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:35:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25517395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acnara/pseuds/Acnara
Summary: Missing scenes, one-shots exploring events happening between the timeline of the fic Tentative. Some mine, some readers choice.
Relationships: Harry & multiple, Harry Potter & Tom Riddle, Harry Potter & Voldemort
Series: Tentative [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1848607
Comments: 19
Kudos: 176





	Tarot spreads for beginners

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, it´s me again. I just made this little corner to spill all the little scenes I did not put in the main fic. i will update this sporadicly, and they will cover the whole timeline, including the Tom-Rob era. I have some ideas of my own, but I please, if you have any request let me know! Want to know how the first meeting between Tom and Harry/Rob? How Bella and Barty dealed with Harry being missing during hanged man? Maybe what happened th first time Voldemort faced James and Lily after he kidnnaped Harry? Or maybe the first time Harry met Draco Malfoy? Or absolutely anything else? let me know in the comments.
> 
> ok, now. This is a small part of what the original epilogue was going to look like. Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Order has a little chat. It goes about as well as you might expect it to go. Set after the events of Tentative´s epilogue.

**Good wives always know.**

**-**

The figure moves near the walls, quiet and tense like a scared mouse. The cape blends into the shadows, making the silhouette appear more phantom than human. When it abandons the safety of walls to cross the street, the moonlight reflects on the silver skull mask hiding her features. 

Her step is swift, and the howling wind barely manages to move the fabric around her feet. She walks through narrow alleys, passing drunk men that don’t seem to notice her at all. As if their eyes see right through her outline, they shiver in the cold night and let the shadow be.

The woman reaches an ugly little house, knocks twice. The walls seem to twitch and tremble, the wind making the old frame of the building whine. A small window on the wooden doot opens, and a pair of dark eyes study her for about a moment. When the man behind the door recognizes her his eyes grow wide. 

“I didn't think we would see you ever again,” The man says as he opens the door. She narrows her eyes at him. Remus Lupin looks filthy, and he smells even worse. Sometimes she wonders if these wizards just refuse to at least bathe once in a while. They look awful every time they cross paths. Although, she muses, that might be what being on the losing side of a war does to you. Her lips press tight behind the silver mask. Remus Lupin is just a reminder of everything she is risking. 

“Don't be foolish,” she hisses, pushing him back into the house. Lupin stumbles into the building, hitting the wall as she advances on him. One of her perfectly manicured nails digs into his chest. “Why would you even speak to me outside? Is this a joke to you, or are you all so defeated you are now begging to be discovered and slaughtered?” 

The door closes behind them, the fidelius setting down around them like a thin veil. They spend just a second in the dark, her blue eyes piercing Lupin´s before the man even talks. He licks his lips, and she can feel his chest flutter under her touch. 

“I… Sorry.” And he sounds sincere, dear Merlin. The bags under his eyes are dark and pronounced, and she has to wonder if Remus has slept at all these last few weeks. “I just couldn´t believe you were here. None of us thought you would show up ever again. Not after…” 

Lupin´s eyes shift a bit, looking to the floor. Yes, she didn't think she would come back to this nasty hole ever again either. Dumbledore's death had hit everyone in Wizard Europe, but especially spies. In particular, those passing information on the Dark Lord to the Order of the Phoenix, like her.

No, Narcissa Malfoy had never thought he would be back here if Lord Voldemort finally won. And yet.

“I have news. Important news.” Remus looks back at her, the worry and grief in his eyes twisting into disbelief. “There must be someone in charge. Someone to report to. Call that someone.”

Lupin blinks. The way his mouth barely curls up at her tone reminds her of his husband. There is a phantom ache on her chest. She buried Lucius two years ago. 

They walk across the hall towards what Narcissa has come to know as the Meeting Room. Inside, there is a large table and an even bigger fireplace. Of course, the madwoman is in there.

The war had not treated Sybill Trelawney well. Her usually messy hair is shorter than ever, but even that doesn't seem to tame it. It spikes in all directions and looks tangled and dirty, even though her curls don't reach past her ears. She is, as always, wearing too many fabrics on her, and she keeps playing with something in her hands. Narcissa frowns. She can smell the witch from where she stands. 

Only once she can feel the powerful secrecy spells around the room, Narcissa takes off her mask. Remus stares at her as if she is a ghost. She might as well be, Narcissa thinks. 

“Narcissa, dear. What a wonderful surprise.” 

The portrait doesn't surprise her. It hangs above the fireplace, so big it feels like it is about to stumble down from the wall. Narcissa had witnessed Albus Dumbledore discussing ideas with the portrait before. She had always thought it foolish, to talk to one´s self like that. But maybe Dumbledore had a point. Sometimes she wonders if she would be in this messy situation if a younger, less beaten up by war, loss, and time Narcissa had screamed some sense into her from a painting. She doesn't give it too much thought, though. It wouldn't let her sleep at night if she did.

“Dumbledore,” she greets back. Trelawney doesn't acknowledge her at all. It's a real surprise how long the fake seer has survived this war. So many of her betters had fallen, yet here Trelawney is. Playing with her little tea possums and cards, acting lunatic. Just looking at her makes Narcissa angry. 

Remus keeps looking at her as if he is expecting her to flee at any second. Is not like she can really blame him. She is waiting for it herself. 

Finally, movement upstairs distracts both of them. Kingsley Shacklebolt walks down the stairs.

“Kingsley,” Narcissa´s voice sounds relieved. It's obvious she feels happy that Shacklebolt is the one in charge, and not Lupin. Her cheeks heat a bit. She didn’t mean to sound rude, but having a man like Shacklebolt leading the Order greatly increased her chances of surviving this mess. Trelawney, muttering to herself and laying cards on the table only to quickly pick them up again and repeat is not exactly… soothing. Remus does not look angry, almost as if he himself is relieved Shacklebolt is up to the task of assuming the leading position. “I´m glad to see you healthy. I thought you were injured.”

Narcissa doesn´t say dead, because she is a well educated lady, but she meant dead. The Carrow siblings lied to the Dark Lord, then. Stupid, but not surpising. Those two would do and say anything for a shred of power. 

“I should say the same about you, lady Malfoy.” Shacklebolt´s boots are heavy on the floor. The war has eaten at him, but the man still moves like a tiger. He nods towards Dumbledore's portrait, and the old headmaster nods back with a smile. “It is always a pleasure to have you here, but I must ask. What are you doing back here, my lady? I didn't pitch you as the type to bet for the injured horse.” 

The pureblood witch purses her lipstick-red lips. She wasn´t. The war between Dumbledore and the Dark Lord had been a head-to-head battle. No one knew for sure who would win, whose plot would be the final one. Before, giving some information to the Order had not been completely unreasonable. But now was not before. She had kept herself away for weeks after Dumbledore´s fall, because she thought that without him the Order had no chance of winning. She would be lying if she said she had missed the decaying atmosphere of this house, or Trelawney's constant background muttering. It had been a relive, knowing who was the winning side. Finally, she felt like she could finally rest.

But a new player had just entered the game, a chess piece that could change everything. Something that made her tentative alliance with the light side worth something again. The king was back on the board.

“He is back. The prophecy child, Potter´s son. The Dark Lord brought him back from wherever he was hiding him. I have seen him.” 

The room falls silent. Well, not really. Trelawney is still muttering under her breath, playing with her cards. On and off the table they go, while Kinsley and Lupin stare Narcissa down. They don't believe her. She doesn't blame them. Narcissa raises her chin. Remus Lupin holds her ice cold gaze looking paler than ever. 

“Are you…” Remus sounds as if he is begging her to stop toying with him. “Did your master tell you to deliver this news? So he can make another trap and get someone else killed in a rescue mission?”

The werewolf is trembling. Not just in anger, but in that violent way creatures did before they turned into beasts. Narcissa takes a deep breath. It isn´t the first time Lupin had been close to losing his nerves in front of her. If she has to curse him, she will.

Thankfully, Shacklebolt rushes in.

“Calm down, Lupin.”

“No!” Remus all but roars. His teeth are bared, like a dog about to strike. “Wasn't all that happened to us enough? What happened to James? Bloody hell, weren't the Weasley's lives enough? Sirius´ life?”

She is about to answer, screaming about how everyone had lost loved ones in this war, when the werewolf does the unimaginable. He takes a hold of the table and, with a strength that is completely inhuman, rips one of the table legs right off. The table comes tumbling down, and Trelawney screams. Her dear cards, all perfectly aligned on the table, fall to the floor. The woman howls like a banshee. 

Narcissa all but shoves her delicate wand on Lupin´s face. “Don't come any closer.”

Remus growls, ready for a fight, when Shacklebolt presses a calm but firm hand on Lupin´s shoulder. “That's enough,” he says, giving the man a long look before turning to face her. “Thank you, Narcissa. That is very important information. We will keep our end of the bargain. Whatever happens in the war, Draco will always be welcomed. With us.”

That doesn´t make her lower her wand. “I assume Potter has not woken up yet, then.” judging by the way the werewolf had spoken, James Potter was still too wounded to wake up. The last time Voldemort and him crossed paths, it had been vicious. She saw the dark look in Lupin's eyes, and didn´t press the topic. 

“I want to talk to Lily,” she said instead. “She will be glad to know her son is back.” 

The men shared a look. Lupin takes a step back, as if ashamed, and turns around. Shacklebolt sighs. “Maybe later,” he says. “ _ We _ ” he emphasizes, “will tell her later.”

She frowns. “I don´t need your permission to tell her that her  _ child _ is alive. I don't think she will be too pleased to know you want to keep her in the dark.”

That's the only real reason she is even here in the first place. She owes nothing to these people, but she hadn't been able to sleep this whole past week thinking about Lily Potter. If it was Draco, Narcissa would want to know her son was alive and well. 

The Order might be near defeated, she knows. She is a spy, Merlin's robes, of course he knows. 

But she is a mother too, and therefore she knew. With Lily Potter's son back on the board, things are far from over. Potter will find out sooner or later about her kid, and being the one bringing the information might give Narcissa an advantage in the next chapter of this war.

Trelawney rushes past her, running towards the kitchen, away from the tension in the room. As she passes her, Narcissa sees the card she is holding in her hand, one from the neat pile he had been ordering again and again and again. 

It's a little duck. 

**Author's Note:**

> And that´s that on that. Remember leaving any requests you have in the comments! I´d love to write whatever you want to see. I found this au very cozy, writing for it is quite delightful.


End file.
